


Feet of Clay

by Healthyeyes



Series: Family [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Jack Kline, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Jack Kline is a Winchester, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Slice of Life, jumps right into the domestic life ok, series of short drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Healthyeyes/pseuds/Healthyeyes
Summary: See: Book of Daniel (2:31-35)---A Fix-it with baby!Jack. Will just be drabbles, slices of life of an alternate timeline. Mostly just domestic fluff, a what-if Cas and Dean were actually together and raising Jack in the bunker like a proper family???????--Dean comes home after a long day and the bunker is a mess.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199678
Kudos: 27





	Feet of Clay

**Author's Note:**

> Like the summary says, basically, Jack is a proper baby, but with some superpowers for sure. Dean and Cas are together--how they got together will come in a later drabble. Mostly just wrote these as an excuse for cuteness, smut and family feelings. :^) Deans a mechanic, Cas is a stay-at-bunker dad. Sam and Eileen are enjoying life as 'the new bobby' dynamic duo--they stop by often to borrow from the bunker library, helping hunters from their home in the next town over. Auntie Rowena will be doting on Jack at another drabble. A break from hunter-life while they all raise Jack.
> 
> Idk if this series will end happily or sad, we'll see. Keep an eye on the tags. 
> 
> \---  
> Inspired by the book of Daniel (2:31-35)(NIV):
> 
> “Your Majesty looked, and there before you stood a large statue—an enormous, dazzling statue, awesome in appearance. The head of the statue was made of pure gold, its chest and arms of silver, its belly and thighs of bronze, its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of baked clay. While you were watching, a rock was cut out, but not by human hands. It struck the statue on its feet of iron and clay and smashed them. Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver and the gold were all broken to pieces and became like chaff on a threshing floor in the summer. The wind swept them away without leaving a trace. But the rock that struck the statue became a huge mountain and filled the whole earth."
> 
> Dean knows his weakness.

Dean sighed as he dropped his bag next to the door, kicking his boots off as he looked at the other ones on the mat: Castiel’s runners, covered in mud, and Jack’s tiny boots, no bigger than the palm of his hand, also covered in mud. 

Dean descended the stairs and saw the toys laying about--a teddy bear, a fire truck, a vodou doll (he’d need to ask Rowena about that later)--and he picked them up, tossing them into the toy box that they’d stashed under the war table. Dean’s back ached as he bent over to get them, tired from working all day over the hoods of cars.

Dean couldn’t hear them, but he could hear the television coming from the den as he made his way further into the bunker, checking the kitchen and Jack’s nursery along the way. The kitchen was a mess--Jack’s high chair was splattered with food and the remnants of Cas’ dinner was left abandoned at the table. In the hall it wasn’t much better; Jacks socks were on the floor, discarded, along with more toys. Dean did his best to not step on them as he finally made it to the den where he found the door open just slightly, a soft glow coming from inside. 

The television was on, set to a documentary about animals, the voice explaining something about baboons that Dean didn’t care about. His gaze was instead focused on the two figures on the couch. 

Castiel was fast asleep with Jack on his chest, who was also fast asleep, just like his dad. Castiel had one hand on Jack’s back, holding him as they slept, their breathing in time with one another’s, and Dean couldn’t help but admire their soft faces. Jack was still pudgy, not even two yet, and Castiel had dressed him in a onesie that was bright yellow and had a duck hoodie on it. He had a tuft of wispy blonde hair that Dean liked to call his “angel hairs”-- a little joke between them that always made Castiel smile, and his tiny hands grabbed fistfuls of Castiel’s shirt.

Castiel himself was dressed in flour-splattered black track pants and one of Dean’s old ACDC t-shirts that had also been generously powered with flour and looked like there were a few splashes of paint on it. He could see the same paint in Castiel’s hair--pink and blue, drops of it here and there-- and as he shifted, his head moving to the right, he could see a tiny handprint in blue slapped on his cheek. His stubble had grown out today, unshaven, and he could see the tiny scars on his jaw from fights that seemed to be a lifetime ago. 

Dean smiled, just watching them both for a long time, appreciating all he had with them; he had a  _ family _ , truly. It was what he had always wanted, and finally allowing himself to have that seemed too good to be true to Dean--He never felt like he really deserved it. Even if it was in this way he’d never expected, he was grateful for every day that Cas and Jack were in his life. It made a breath catch in Dean’s throat until he shifted, moving forward to the back of the sofa they lied on. 

Dean grabbed the blanket that was draped on the back of the couch and unfurled it, spreading it over them both and letting them continue to snooze, switching the television off and flicking off the light before he left the room with a last glance and a smile lingering on his lips. 


End file.
